


Finding Home

by foundmyhome



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed, Charming Family Feels, Cursed Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Eventual Captain Swan, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Romance, cursed!killian au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:45:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3297398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foundmyhome/pseuds/foundmyhome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colin Jones is a good man.  He is a good deputy, a good friend, and damn it, he's a good father.  So why is he being punished? He knows that his son is imaginative and creative--he just doesn’t want to accept that he might also be a tad bit delusional.  And this story of his, this web of fairy tales and cursed townsfolk that he believes fervently is so unlike his boy that Colin barely knows what to say.  Not to mention the addition of Henry's enthralling and beautiful birth mother, Emma Swan, and the sudden interest his little family is getting from the mayor of Storybrooke.  If things keep up like this, he might just need a drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chap 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! Hope you enjoy this first installment of my story! You can find me on tumblr under the same username, if you so wish! 
> 
> This story is a canon divergence of what would have happened if Killian was taken under the first curse and, after his cursed self pulled a few things with our favorite crocodile, ended up adopting Henry instead of Regina.
> 
> Special thanks to my lovely beta, Lissa (colourfulmoniker-hook.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Enjoy!

“Henry, lad, the mayor isn’t evil.”

Colin was worried for his son. Henry had been an imaginative little kid since the beginning. When he was first learning to read, he had insisted that Colin write down the stories he told him, so he could learn from his own books. He had asked for a video camera two Christmases in a row, begging Colin and Graham to be the heroes in his movies. He knew that his son was imaginative and creative--he just didn’t want to accept that he might also be a tad bit delusional. And this story of his, this web of fairy tales and cursed townsfolk that he believed fervently was so unlike his boy that Colin barely knew how to talk about it.

“Yes she is.” Henry clutched the brown book to his chest, his eyes wide. “Please, Dad, you’ve got to believe me! We’ve got to break the curse!”

Colin sighed. He dropped to the ground, leaning back on his legs. One hand ran through his hair while the other steadied itself on his sweet, confused son’s shoulder. “Lad, that book of yours is just a story. They’re all just stories.”

Henry jerked away. “They’re your stories, Dad.” His whole little face had dropped, his eyes watering. Colin could feel his own heart breaking at the expression. He stood up, grabbing the small backpack from the countertop.

“We’ve got to get you to school, Henry.” It was barely eight in the morning and already Colin felt drained. He was exhausted. Exhausted from the late shift at the station that Graham had begged him to take, from staying up even later than that to bake the dozen cupcakes for Henry’s class, from trying to convince his son that his life was real.

He never should have told Henry that he was adopted. The lad was too young, too sensitive; the news had nearly crushed him and seeing his son that way had nearly destroyed Colin, as well. But he had been asking questions, about who his mother was, and how could Colin answer those? He wished, for the first time, that he was a woman. Explaining away a father, who could leave after conception, would be much easier than explaining away a woman who would’ve had to carry the boy for nine months. Henry had been keen, but quick to assure that Colin was doing a great job and Henry was only curious--and really, what could Colin say to that? His little lad, with his brown eyes begging, had been so earnest: Colin couldn’t lie. So, he told him everything.

And Henry had handled it twice as poorly as Colin had feared: within two months, he no longer believed that his world existed.

“I wish you’d believe me,” Henry grumbled, shoving his book into the bag that his father had offered him. “I’m telling you the truth.”

Like was usual lately, Colin didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.” It was a pathetic response, but it was truthful. Henry nodded.

“Me, too.” He grabbed a banana, because apples were suddenly forbidden from the household, and ran outside to wait in the car.

Colin took a moment to grab his badge and keys from the table, bang his head against the door, before going to join his wonderful, smart, kind, delusional kid.

\--

Life for Regina Mills was going great. The curse, to her surprise, had gone better than she could’ve ever imagined.

In addition to Snow White being deliciously unhappy, stuck perpetually without her True Love, child, or an even remotely interesting career, a decade after the curse struck, Regina met her own True Love.

Robin Hood, who went by just Rob in this world, had stumbled into her with his young, bright-eyed son in tow. And, in exactly the way Regina always imagined True Love worked, they fell quickly and happily into a perfect bliss.

Roland, who had taken in the last five years or so to calling her Mama, was the missing link in her life. She knew it. As much as being stepmother to Snow had ruined her life, being stepmother to Roland healed it. And the devilishly handsome husband that came along with it, who still looked at her like there were stars in her eyes, didn’t hurt a bit.

She almost, though not quite, regretted casting the curse. Not that Snow White and her dimwitted prince didn’t deserve this-- oh no, of that, Regina was certain. But, frankly, she missed time. She wanted to see Roland grow up; she wanted him to experience birthdays as they were supposed to be, marking a passing, marking a loss.

Selfishly, though, she was glad; how could her darling Roland and her wonderful Rob love the evil queen? The scary mayor, the doting wife- that, they could love. But she would never allow the curse to break, if only because of the look in their eyes when they realized who she truly was.

Yes, the curse would have to stay. And, really, it was nearly perfect. Outside of Rumplestiltskin’s damned “please”s and the stupid pirate somehow getting a growing, cute child into the cursed town, there was nothing to worry about.

Regina wasn’t sure what the pirate had traded with Gold to get his son. But after nearly eleven years, she wasn’t worried about the kid. He wasn’t so bad, truthfully. A fluke in her plan to bring them all misery, but, really-- as long as Snow White was miserable, it was good enough for her.

\--  
Henry wasn’t crazy.

His dad might have thought he was and Archie might have looked at him with those eyes terribly full of pity during his sessions, and even Graham sometimes said he was worried about the “book delusions” to his Dad when they thought he was asleep.

But Henry knew he wasn’t.

The town was cursed. And ever since he borrowed Miss Blanchard’s credit card and found out who is birth mother is, he was absolutely certain that she was the Savior his storybook talks about.

He just had to prove it.

“Miss Blanchard?” Henry smiled at his grandmother; he couldn’t wait until she remembers. He thought that she would probably look really pretty if she was happy. “You dropped this.” He handed her back her card, pretending like it was an accident.

“Oh, Henry!” She looked surprised, but quickly nodded and accepted his lies. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. And my dad is supposed to pick me up early. Can I go wait for him out front?” She looked like she was about to argue, but Henry couldn’t have that; he had to go find his mom. “Please, Miss Blanchard? I’ll be really good!”

Another student, Paige, he thought, called for her attention and Miss Blanchard waved him away. “Wait right out front for you dad, Henry!”

“I promise!” He lied, rushing out the front door, his backpack strapped tight to him.

Even if he was going to be grounded for the next hundred years, Henry didn’t care. He was going to find his mom and she was going to bring back the happy endings. After all, it was her destiny.

\--

“He bloody well believes it, Graham.” Colin clenched the coffee cup in his hand, wishing it was something stronger. Like rum. The thought surprised him; he wasn’t a very big drinker, and certainly never for anything stronger than beer. All his mates mocked him for it, but he had never developed the taste.

“Maybe it’s just for attention.” His best mate suggested. Graham and he had worked together at the station for as long as he could remember. The two, truly, were more like brothers at this point. Graham, second only to Henry, was the most important person in his life.

“I don’t think it is. Maybe at the beginning,” Colin allowed, because, surely, it had to start off smaller. “But now my lad truly believes it to be true.”

Graham tapped his chin once, using his other hand to lean back on the desk, his arm propping his weight up. “What’s Archie say?”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Classified.”

“Classified?” Graham laughed. “You’re his father.”

“Apparently,” and Colin refused to admit the bitterness in his voice, “it’s need to know basis with child therapy.”

“That can’t be true.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Colin sighed again, dropping his head into his hands. “I just want him to be alright.”

“Look, Col,” Graham hesitated, but then plunged forward. “Adoption is hard. Just, maybe-- give it time. Let him work this out.”

Colin nodded. He shuffled papers into the corner of his desk, pretending to be busy. Graham took the hint and jumped off the second desk, heading to his office. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Colin murmured, picking up a pen. There wasn’t much work to do, with Storybrooke being a relatively crime free zone, but he could pretend all the same. 

\--

Emma Swan was having a hard day.

Sure, she caught the bad guy and got paid a pretty penny for it. But, as far as birthdays went, this one sucked. Her red dress was stained, her cupcake was uneaten, and her kid-- no, the kid, the kid that she had given away years ago-- had found her.

Birthdays had never been Emma’s speciality, but, really, this one was taking the cake.

She blinked, listening to the kid ramble about some curse. “Frozen in time? Stuck in Storybrooke, Maine? That’s what you’re going with?”

His eyes widened and Emma’s heart nearly stopped at the familiarity. “It’s true!” He implored.

“Then why doesn’t everybody just leave?”

“They can’t,” he explained, “if they try, bad things happen.”

Emma could barely think straight. Here was this kid, with her chin and dimples, and Neal’s hazel eyes. She was looking at him so fiercely that she nearly missed it when someone down the street called his name.

“Henry!” A man with an umbrella and dog jogged across the street, worry creasing his brow. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” He looked between Emma and Henry, suspicious.

Emma opened her mouth the talk, but the kid beat her to it: “I’m fine, Archie.” He dropped down to pet the dog.

Satisfied that he was alright, the man turned to Emma. “Who’s this?”

“Just someone trying to give him a ride home,” she answered. Short and sweet. No names, no responsibilities. After signing away her rights, that really was all Emma was ever going to be.

Henry had different plans, though. “She’s my mom, Archie.” And damn him, the kid sounded proud. The man, Archie, lifted his brows.

“Oh, I see.” Emma wanted to strangle the kid for saying that. She wasn’t his mom. She wasn’t anybody’s mom.

“You know where he lives?” Emma had already tried to get the answer out of the kid; she hoped that not everyone here was as stubborn as he seemed to be.

Thankfully, the man just smiled and gestured. “Oh, sure. Right up on Mifflin street. The deputy’s house is the only yellow house on the street.”

“The deputy’s?” Her mouth nearly fell open. “You’re the deputy’s kid?”

“Um, maybe.” At least he had the decency to look ashamed. Emma hoped that the kid’s parents wouldn’t get her arrested.

“Henry, where were you today? You missed your session.” Archie had leaned down and was talking to Henry. Emma frowned. Who was this guy?

“Oh, um, I forgot to tell you. I had a field trip.” Emma nearly laughed; he was an absolutely terrible liar.

The shrink, because that had to be who this guy was, started lecturing the kid about lying and dark side and really, didn’t he know that Henry was a child?

“Okay,” she drew out the word, raising an eyebrow. The man stood up, looking abashed. “I should really be getting him home now.”

The man said goodbye and Henry argued more about the curse, but Emma ushered him back into the car. She couldn’t deal with this. She wasn’t the kid’s mom. She just had to take him to his real parents, avoid arrest, maybe see if this place had a twenty-four hour coffee shop, and get the hell out of Storybrooke, Maine.

\--

“Where the bloody hell is he?” Colin felt like he was going to be ripped at the seams. His son was gone, damn it. His son, his Henry, was gone and he couldn’t find him anywhere.

“Brother, it’s going to be okay.” Graham put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him to sit down on the couch. The older man looked like he was about to pass out and Graham knew that wouldn’t help much of anything.

“We’ve looked everywhere and I- I can’t lose him, Graham, please.” Colin knew, logically, that Graham couldn’t save the day, but he begged anyway. “I should have believed him.”

“Henry didn’t leave because you didn’t believe him, Colin-”

“Actually,” the light voice sang, “I did. I went and got proof!”

Colin jumped up so fast his vision blackened for a moment. He ran, his long legs barely touching the ground, to the front door where his beautiful, assumedly safe son stood. “Lad, you’re alright.”

“Of course I’m alright!” And Henry genuinely sounded surprised.

Colin picked him up, wrapping his arms so tightly around his son that Henry nearly immediately squirmed to get free. “Gods, Lad, where were you?”

Henry frowned, squirming faster, so Colin gently dropped him back to the ground. “I went to find my mom.”

And, for the first time, Colin noticed that there was a pretty blonde in his entryway. “You’re-- you’re Henry’s birthmother?”

Of course she is, Colin scolded himself. Henry just told you that.

“Um.” She shrugged, her gaze flittering between both Colin and Graham.

“Well, I for one am glad he’s okay,” Graham laughed, breaking the silence and scooping Henry up into his own hug. Colin tried not to be jealous that Henry seemed to hug back.

“Oh, of course.” Colin scratched behind his ear. “Thank you for bringing him home, lass.”

“Dad,” Henry whined, “Invite my mom inside.”

Colin blinked. “Oh, right. Yes, please, come inside.” He turned his back to the woman and dropped to his knees, looking at Henry.

“Lad, I am very glad you’re okay.” He kissed his son’s forehead, who immediately wiped at the spot, frowning.

“Does this mean I’m not in trouble?”

Colin and Graham both laughed at that. “Oh, no. You are in big trouble. Humongous trouble. More trouble than your wee little lad brain can understand right now.” Colin grinned, because, yes, he was furious at Henry for leaving, but his relief at his return was weighing heavier. “But for now, why don’t you go to bed? It’s late. ”

“Okay.” Henry wrapped his small arms around Colin’s neck, and any anger that remained immediately dissipated. “Goodnight, Dad. I love you.”

Colin kissed the top of his head again, his whines of being too old be damned.

Henry waved goodnight to Graham before running over and hugging the strange woman’s legs, whispering something to her. Her eyes were wide and she remained silent, but Henry took that as encouragement anyway. Seeing his son run up the stairs helped calm Colin a bit more, relaxing now that Henry was safe in the house.

“Well, I’ll be going then.” Graham smiled politely at the woman and then hugged Colin, clapping him on the back. “You and the boy take tomorrow off, alright, Jones?”

“Aye. Thanks again, mate.”

\--

Emma was blinking the tears in her eyes away. The man with the dark black hair and piercing blue eyes was so relieved to see the kid. His whole body relaxed when Henry was in his arms. She had never seen first hand that amount of love from a parent. It made her own heart ache at the love she’d never have; it made her tremendously sad but equally happy that she had given Henry up. This was what she wanted for him. Home. Love.

The man with the shaggy brown hair tipped an imaginary hat at her, smiling goodbye, before closing the door. The room remained silent, just Emma and her son’s adoptive father.

“Well, I should be going.” She tried not to feel guilty at the words, purposefully not thinking about Henry’s little arms around her legs, his whispered pleas for her to stay the night.

“Oh.” The man looked surprised. “I, alright. Um.” He scratched behind his ear again. “Would you like a drink? I, well, I make a mean sweet tea.”

Emma smiled, surprising herself with how unforced it seemed. “Got anything stronger?” She joked.

“I hope he didn’t put you out too much?” The man asked, leading the way to the kitchen. Emma followed. He flickered on the lights and gestured for her to sit at the kitchen table. It was cozy. The fridge had paintings and essays with big, red “A”s on them.

“I just live in Boston, so.” She accepted the glass he offered her, watching him slide into the chair across from her. “I’m Emma. Emma Swan.”

“Colin Jones,” he told her. The man was pretty, that was sure. And he seemed like a good father. Emma hoped he was.

“Any Mrs. Jones I should worry about?” Emma tried to sound joking, but really, she was terribly curious. Why had Henry so readily attached himself to her, if he had such great parents?

“No, no one like that, lass.” He dropped his head into one of his hands, and Emma suddenly felt terrible. It was late, his son was missing, and she was here to remind him he was all alone in his parenthood? “Not for a long time. Just myself and the lad.”

“I didn’t contact him.” She blurted. “I-- what I mean is, he found me.”

“Aye,” Colin nodded. “I figured as much. He’s been acting up, since he found out about, well, you. About the adoption. I had wanted to wait a while longer to tell him, but, he always did have that thing about lies.”

Emma jolted, surprised. “Lies?”

Colin grinned, and it seemed fond. “He calls it his ‘superpower’. He can always tell when someone is lying to him.”

Emma’s heart rattled in her chest, pounding hard enough for her ears to hear it. It was one thing to share a chin. It was an entirely other thing to share something so personal, something she prided herself on. Did Henry pride himself on it, too?

“I need to get going.” She stood up, abruptly. The glass was still in her hand.

“Alright, Emma.” He stood up and carefully took the glass from her hand. Did she look as horrified as she felt? She must’ve, the way Colin was staring at her.

His eyes were staring into hers, not blinking or glancing away. His expression was kind, his whole body waiting for her to make a move. Emma felt like crying. “ Thank you.”

She rushed out the house, careful not to slam the door, and ran to her car. Her stupid, yellow bug that looked so nice next to the white pickets that surrounded the stupid, yellow house. She had to get back to Boston. Those boys would be the death of her, otherwise.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you guys SO much for the response and your patience! Hopefully this chapter is worth it! I'd like to thank my absolutely amazing betas, Lissa (colourfulmoniker-hook.tumblr.com) and Allie (the-savior-and-the-pirate.tumblr.com)!! They're wonderful and you should definitely check them out!
> 
> Happy Valentines Day, guys! :D

“Emma Swan crashed her car.”

Colin knew that the past however many years he’d worked for Storybrooke’s law enforcement had to be a fluke. It had been so boring, that most days Graham and Colin just watched movies and played on the walkie-talkies. But now, in a two day period, he had lost his son and the woman who returned with him had crashed her car.

This, undoubtedly, was karma at its worse. Colin pushed past his best mate. “Henry’s missing.” He growled, stalking towards the petite blonde woman who was leaning against the bars. “Do you know where he is?”

Emma Swan put her hands up. “Haven’t seen him since I dropped him at your place. Have a pretty good alibi, too.”

Colin wasn’t certain how much more of this he could take. He slid into the chair closest to the jail cell, cradling his head in his hands. “I was making breakfast and he wasn’t there.”

Graham put a hand on his shoulder. “ We’ll find him. Did you check his school?”

Colin nodded. “I called Miss Blanchard on the way over here, she says she hasn’t seem him since yesterday.” Graham frowned.

“Did you check with his friends?” Swan offered. Colin glared at her.

“Henry doesn’t really have friends,” and damn if that didn’t make them both feel worse.

“Every kid has friends,” Swan said this as if she was talking to herself; as if she wasn’t surrounded by the strangers who had raised her kid. “Hey, here’s an idea. Let me out of here and I’ll help you find him.”

Colin wasn’t sure what help she could be, but with this being the second day in a row that his son had gone missing, he sure as hell was going to take any help he could get. “Aye.”

Graham remained where he was, raising his eyebrow, his face etched perfectly in skepticism; Colin grabbed the keys from his hand and unlocked the cell. “Stay here, Humbert,” Colin ordered his boss, “in case he comes looking for me.”

Graham nodded, ignoring his best mate’s insubordination. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

Emma stalked out of the room, her mood seemingly lifted after being sprung from the jail cell, and Colin had no choice but to follow.

\--

Colin Jones looked like his world was crashing around him. “Miss Blanchard?”

Emma didn’t want to be mad at the small school teacher; she was staring at them, wide eyed and familiar, her chin quivering. After going back to Colin’s-- no, Jones, Emma reprimanded herself, don’t get too familiar-- house and checking Henry’s email, they saw a receipt using his teachers credit card. The two rushed to the school, hoping the woman had clues about the kid’s whereabouts. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jones. I- I didn’t know.”

It would’ve been easier for Emma not to be mad if Jones had been; but, no. The man with the perfect face had even more perfect reactions. While devastation was playing on his face, his eyes alight with betrayal, there was nothing harsh or angry about it.

“I had-” Jones stopped, taking a deep breath. “I had hoped that she had contacted him.” He jutted his head towards her and Emma felt her breath catch in her throat.

“It was a closed adoption.” She muttered. “I made a promise not to.”

Jones shrugged and Miss Blanchard looked between them, as if she had something to say. She opened her mouth, but shut it quickly when she caught his gaze. Emma narrowed her eyes.

“Jones?” His eyes jumped to hers. “Why don’t you go home? See if he went back yet? I’ll keep looking around town.”

“You don’t know the town,” he replied. His voice sounded weaker; his whole body seemed to have dropped, the weight seeming to press down on him.

“I’ll go with her,” Miss Blanchard offered. Emma hoped she had something important to say. Colin nodded, agreeing, and left the schoolroom without another word.

The teacher let out a deep breath, her shoulders sagging as Jones left the room.

“I’m Mary Margaret,” the woman smiled prettily, offering her hand. Emma narrowed her eyes.

“Emma Swan,” she peaked her head around the doorway, making sure that Jones was out of hearing distance. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Mary Margaret, at least, had the decency to look ashamed. “It’s all my fault.”

“No way.” Emma rolled her eyes. “I mean, it was your credit card. But he would’ve just lifted it off someone else.”

“No,” Mary Margaret disagreed. “I mean everything. Colin thinks all of this is because of the adoption, but I don’t think so. I mean, sure, it started off that way. But when I saw how terribly upset he was, I gave him this book- just a book full of stories. To give him hope. To remind him that even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing.”

Emma sighed. “And that’s when his whole cursed shtick began?”

“I believe so, yes.” Mary Margaret nodded, pulling at the edge of her sweater. “I never meant to hurt Colin; I’ve always been fond of him.”

“He’s a good dad?” Emma couldn’t help the fear in her expression, the doubt in her voice; to be honest, she had never even met a good dad.

“The best,” Mary Margaret affirmed. “He loves that kid more than anyone has ever loved anything or anyone else.” And she wasn’t sure why, but hearing Mary Margaret say that calmed Emma completely; somehow, the woman just seemed to radiate understanding and love.

“You should try Henry’s castle. He likes to keep it a secret and I just knew how disappointed he would be if his father found out.”

\--

“Your dad seems great, kid.”

Henry shrugged. His shoulders heaved heavily, but Emma couldn’t help but smile. He was putting on a big show, but his little face was pinched and his tiny lips were pursed to hold back the smile already lighting up his eyes. Emma pretended not to be broken by his giggle when she gently knocked against his shoulder.

“He is,” Henry finally admitted. “He just isn’t himself.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed. She liked Jones enough, but what the hell did that mean? She had heard that same phrase used by too many broken kids in her broken childhood. “What do you mean?”

Henry turned to her, fully, tucking his legs underneath his small body. “Dad thinks he’s Colin Jones, deputy of Storybrooke. But really, he’s Captain Hook!”

Henry looked excited, but Emma’s mouth went dry and her eyes welled up. “You think your dad’s a villain?”

His head cocked to the side, his eyes narrowing. “No,” he insisted, glaring at her. If she wasn’t so worried, Emma would have found it adorable. “You don’t know the real story. Peter Pan is the villain. My dad was a lieutenant!”

Emma had no idea what the kid was saying, but she lifted her hands, placatingly. “Sure, alright.” She was just glad that Jones wasn’t a bad guy, in any version of Henry’s reality.

“Just stay a week,” Henry begged her. “Just one week and you’ll see I’m not crazy!”

Emma sighed, jumping off the castle and holding her hand out to Henry to help him down. Clumsily, he landed by her side.

“We’ve got to get you home, now, kid.”

\--

“I think this belongs to you.”

The previous night, when Emma Swan handed over his beautiful son, he was positive it was the most relieved he’d ever felt. But now, watching her do it a second time in as many days, he felt dizzy with relief. What could he ever do to repay that divine woman back?

“Henry, lad.” He swept his son into a bone crushing hug, feeling giddy pleasure that this time his Henry hugged back. “I love you.”

Henry blushed, glancing at Emma behind him. “Dad,” he whined. “I love you, too,” he whispered the sentence hurriedly, hugging tightly for a moment before dropping his arms.

“Go do your homework until dinner,” he ruffled Henry’s hair, who promptly ducked away grumbling.

“See you later, kid!” Emma offered in his direction. Colin frowned; Henry beamed.

“Can I talk to you real quick?” The woman turned to him now that Henry was climbing up the stairs. Colin cocked his head to the side, his frown deepening.

“Have a seat,” he gestured towards the worn couch; it was a soft blue material that Colin couldn’t, for the life of him, remember when he got. Henry always found that suspicious, but Colin thought it probably had more to do with who had picked it out rather than if.

“Henry is a special kid,” Emma began, tucking a thick curl behind her ear. “He has a great imagination.”

“I’m very aware, Ms. Swan.” Colin narrowed his eyes. “What is your point?”

“He thinks you’re a villain,” she blurted out.

Colin had known this woman would bring trouble. Of course he did. With a smile like that and eyes that gleamed brilliant green, he would have to be blind and stupid to assume anything else. After adding in the fact that his son was immediately and ferociously smitten with her, he had thought there would be a little heartache when she left.

But, to be honest, she wasn’t really sounding like she was leaving.

“What the bloody hell do you mean by that?” Colin winced at the curse that fell out of his mouth; his hands were shaking and his heart was beating loudly in his chest. Henry was his son, not hers. And Colin knew he wasn’t enough for the lad, how could he be? He was broken, sure, and he was only one man. Henry hadn’t known the love of a mother’s touch and he shouldn’t be surprised he ached for it. But to have this woman not only step into their lives uninvited, but also have the nerve to call him a villain? A monster? A bad father?

“I’m just worried about him,” she elaborated. Then, in a manner that broke Colin’s heart with as much as it reminded him of Henry, she narrowed her eyes. “And I’m worried about why I need to be worried for Henry.”

Was she accusing him of something? Of that something? In his own home? Colin felt an anger bubbling inside of his chest, filling his limbs and making his head foggy. Sudden images flashed through his mind, leather, the sea, a monster; were these the things she thought he was?

“Make no mistake, Ms. Swan.” His voice dipped lower, threateningly. “My gratitude at your returning my boy home to me doesn’t mean anything more than that. You are not his mother. You have no place in his life.”

The sharp intake of breath sounded loud in the quiet room. Her eyes were wide, lips parted prettily in surprise. “I- I’m just worried about him. He got in my head and I’ve got to make sure he’s alright.”

“He’s fine.” Colin snapped. “He is my son and he’s fine.”

Emma’s surprise drifted off her face and a thick emotion, somewhat angrily, filled her expression. “Well, with all due respect,” she spat the words at him, “I disagree. I wouldn’t call delusional fine.”

“Get the hell out of my house,” Colin stood quickly, knocking the pillow off the couch in his speed. “You don’t get to waltz into my home after ten years and call my lad names!”

“Your son thinks you’re a murdering pirate and you’re mad at me?” Emma poked her finger against his chest. “I gave Henry away to give him his best chance and if you’re some kind of monster-”

“Stop!” Henry’s little voice came loudly from the side of the room. His hands, clutching the storybook to his chest, were shaking. “Don’t talk to my dad that way!”

Emma deflated. “Henry, I’m sorry-”

“My dad’s not a murderer!”

Emma’s face fell, her eyes downcast. “I know, Henry, it’s just-”

Colin took a step towards him and he backed away.

“And why did you tell my mom to leave?” Henry’s lips were quivering, his eyes glossing over. Colin couldn’t believe he had been so blind; of course his curious little lad would be listening.

“She- she’s not your mum,” Colin offered weakly.

Henry sat on the bottom step, frowning.

Colin felt absolutely wretched. This damned Swan woman was not Henry’s mum. He had changed every diaper, soothed every fever, endured every tantrum- she was no more his mum than the absentee father was his dad. But after the death of his wife, before Henry was even in the picture, he had never tried to find another woman to replace that hole inside of him. Had Henry felt the same hole? Was this (admittedly) delusional fantasy world his own doing?

“I want Emma to stay,” Henry whispered. “Please, Dad?”

Colin didn’t know what to do. Emma had asked for a closed adoption; this woman could ruin anything; could take his everything from him.

“Emma, please. Dad! Just one week and I’ll prove it, I will!”

His son was his whole entire world. He would willingly give up anything, give up his life, if it meant his lad being happy. But as much as he tried to be a good father, he wasn’t always a good man. He had been an inconsiderate and selfish man for many years; could he selflessly give this woman a chance, even if it meant losing Henry, even if it meant Henry’s happiness?

But then she turned to him, too, both of them staring up at him with identical expressions of hope, and Colin knew he didn’t have a choice.

“One week,” he told his son. “You can see her for one week.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Hope you enjoy the next chapter! Let me know what you think! :) Once again, HUGE thank you to my betas, Lissa and Allie!

Regina was starting to believe in happy endings.

Not the old fashioned, Enchanted Forest version of them; not the ones that would make Snow White happy. But the regular old ones, where families were happy and peacefulness was an emotion that even the Evil Queen could feel.

She might be a skeptic, but even skeptics could be proven wrong. With Rob laughingly flipping over pancakes and Roland telling them jokes he’d overheard at school, Regina was willing to be proven wrong.

She dropped a kiss to the top of her stepson’s head before pecking at her husband’s cheek. “I love you both. Stay safe.” It was the same goodbye she gave them everyday; Storybrooke was the safest place she’d ever been but she had suffered too much, felt too much loss, to not warn them. To not at least try to protect her boys.

Rob swept Roland into his arms, all four of their arms circling briefly around Regina. “Say, of course we will!”

“Of course we will!” Roland giggled. “Daddy and I love you, too!”

Her heart contracted painfully; she couldn’t help but smile widely. She really was beginning to believe.

\--

“What do you mean, a stranger?” The paper cup crushed in Regina’s hand, water dribbling down her knuckles. Sidney gulped.

“A new woman in town. I think she’s the deputy’s kid’s mom.”

Regina’s blood began to thrum inside of her, boiling and harsh. Her heart felt heavier than it had in decades.

She had been too lenient, had allowed that disgusting pirate to keep his happiness because Henry was cute, because he still looked sad, because Rumplestiltskin was alive and even if Colin Jones was happy, she knew that Captain Hook wasn’t. And now it could cost her everything.

She didn’t know how a stranger could get into Storybrooke, but that wasn’t as important as the fact that she was. She couldn’t be allowed to stay, couldn’t fall for her son. No one would believe Henry if he noticed the curse, but this woman would surely pick up on the fact that no one outside of the boy was growing or aging or changing. She could ruin everything.

“I don’t trust her,” Regina took a long gulp from the glass in her hand, the amber liquid burning as it slid down her throat. She turned to Sidney, pulling his tie straight and smiling. “Figure out why I don’t trust her.”

The man--if you could even call him that--blushed and stammered, promising her that he would dig up everything he could find.

This woman could ruin everything and Regina was absolutely not going to let that happen.

\---

 

“And this was from a pretty gross bicycle accident when I was twelve,” Emma lifted her elbow up, pointing to a jagged white scar decorating her arm. Henry leaned up and traced it, grinning.

“I don’t have a lot of scars,” he said, wistfully. “They’re so cool.”

Emma’s heart paused in her chest, seizing. She glanced at Colin, trying to harden the softened look in her eyes, but when he nodded, once, she knew he saw what she wasn’t saying: thank you for not letting him get hurt.

When Colin had called her early that morning, requesting for her to meet him at Granny’s Diner for breakfast, she thought it would be an official meeting. She had come already angry, red leather jacket and emotional walls protecting her. Emma hadn’t cared what he was going to say; she was staying this week for Henry, no matter what. But she was willing to meet with him, to set up guidelines.

So when she showed up at a quarter past seven and Henry’s little face was the first thing she saw, she was surprised. Henry slid out of the booth and hugged her, sliding in next to her while they ordered their hot chocolate. Colin stayed mostly quiet, sipping at coffee and Emma pretended not to notice the look in his eyes every time Henry laughed.

“Don’t you have school?” Emma finally remembered, watching him shovel the last of his pancakes in his mouth. He was staring at her, his eyes flickering across her face as if she would disappear at any moment; he reached for the napkin Colin extended towards him without looking away.

Swallowing, Henry nodded. “Duh, I’m ten. Walk me.”

Emma smiled and pretended not to notice Colin look away, his jaw tightening.

She slid out of the booth, Henry tumbling after her. Colin stood when she did, dropping down to his knees until he was eye level with Henry.

“Come straight to the station after school and-”

“No pit stops on the way,” Henry finished. Colin’s lips twitched, his face softening.

“Aye, lad.” He kissed the top of his head and hugged him. “Have a good day at school and be good.”

“I will, Dad!” Henry grabbed Emma’s hand, pulling her towards the door. “Love you!”

Colin straightened, clearing his throat. He nodded towards Emma, dropping money on the table to pay for the bill. “I’ll see you around, Miss Swan.”

Emma waved once, offering him a small smile. “See you soon, Mr. Jones.”

She wasn’t sure how to admit it--or if she really even wanted to--but for the first time for years, Emma felt really happy.

\--

Colin couldn’t remember feeling so terrible.

Of course, when Henry went missing, he had been beside himself. And the first time Henry had gotten truly sick, a horrifyingly high fever and wails that pierced his ears and his heart, Colin had been sick to his own stomach with worry. And before Henry, when Milah died--his arms wrapped around her, light leaving her eyes while they flickered across his face, terrified--that had been a terrible day, too.

But this wasn’t like those times before, where there was nothing he could do but wait and hope. On those days, it was up to God whether or not everything turned out alright. But here, watching Emma Swan stroll down Main Street with his son’s hand clutched in her own, it was up to him.

He agreed to let them spend time together; he had given into his son’s begging and invited the woman to breakfast with him. It was his fault and his responsibility. Fixing this was up to him.

“You seem nervous.” Graham handed him a cup of coffee, leaning against the fence. He hadn’t noticed his boss walk into Granny’s, let alone follow him out. “She decided to stay?”

Colin sighed. “Aye. A week.”

Graham raised his eyebrow, cocking his head as Swan and Henry turned out of sight. “At least she’ll give us something to look at.”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Fancy the mother of my child now, Humbert?”

Graham threw his arm around him, laughing. “Would you mind if Henry called me his stepdad?”

If he hadn’t known Graham so well, Colin might’ve been angry; as it was, he just laughed. Graham grinned, clapping him on the back.

“There you go. A smile will go a long way, you know, Jones,” he pushed off the fence, walking towards the sheriff station. Turning so he continued to walk backwards, facing Colin, he threw his arms out wide. “The world is your oyster if you have a positive attitude.”

“What crap are you spouting?” Colin walked quickly, catching up.

“I don’t know. I was watching Roland last night, so Mayor Mills and Rob could have a night out. Kid watches the damnedest stuff.”

Colin pushed his key into the station’s lock, flickering the light on while Graham slid past him, putting his coat on the rack. “You two aren’t still...?”

Graham snorted. “Mayor Mills and I? Please. No way. We’ve been over for years.”

Colin frowned, dropping into his chair. “Years? Really? Doesn’t seem like that long ago.”

“No, I guess it doesn’t.” Graham ran his hand through his hair, eyes focusing on the cells behind Colin’s shoulder. He frowned. “But the Mayor’s been with Rob for nearly as long as I can remember.”

Booting up the computer and taking another chug of his coffee, Colin nodded. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

Colin typed in his username and password, loading the software they used to log shifts. He had done a quick parole of the neighborhood last night while Henry slept and wanted to make sure he made note of the dog he’d seen. It was huge and lurking around the cemetery; he’d need to make flyers if one of them saw it again. Something that big could definitely get into trouble. And didn’t Swan say she had swerved to avoid a wolf? Colin almost laughed; the woman was definitely from Boston. One big dog and she was actually crying wolf. He thought Henry would get a kick out of that and reminded himself to mention it when he saw him after school.

He leaned back in his chair, angling his neck so Graham could hear him in his office. “Hey, Humbert, I saw this- Ah!”

Graham jumped, Colin spinning around in his chair. “Have you been standing there this whole time?”

Graham frowned at him, shaking his head. When he ran his hand through his hair, Colin noticed it was shaking. “Yeah. Sorry. Forgot to go to the office.” He jutted his thumb towards the door. “What were you saying?”

Colin cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. Something was up with his friend. “Nothing important, mate.”

“Okay.” Graham walked into his office and slid into his chair. He clicked at the computer a few times. When he noticed Colin was still staring at him, he glared. “Back to work, Jones.”

Maybe babysitting Roland was more exhausting than it sounded. He shrugged and went back to work, making a mental note to grab his boss another coffee before second shift.

\--

Emma is practically floating. After a really amazing breakfast with her kid and his handsomely charming father, Emma had a nice chat with probably one of the nicest women she’s ever met. This town may be weird, but Emma had to hand it to them--they found a damn good teacher in Mary Margaret Blanchard. While she didn’t buy Henry’s admittedly insane theory, she could see why he would pick his teacher as his grandmother; despite being as young as she was, Mary Margaret was the sweetest person she’d met so far in this town.

She pushed the door of her hotel room in, dropping the shopping bags on the bed. She had spotted a little bookstore on her way back from dropping Henry off and couldn’t help herself. Maybe if Henry had some other books, he would drop this whole fairytale thing once and for all. And Emma wasn’t quite ashamed that she had picked up a copy of Peter Pan for herself.

Tossing her jacket onto the chair and about to throw herself onto the bed, she stilled when there was a knock at the door.

“Did you know the Honeycrisp tree is the most vigorous and hearty of all apple trees? It can survive temperatures as low as forty below and keep growing. It can weather any storm. I have one that I’ve tended to since I was a little girl. And to this day, I have yet to taste anything more delicious than the fruit it offers.”

“Uh, thanks.” Emma rolled the apple in her hand, frowning at the stranger at the door. “Who are you?”

The woman’s eyes flashed and her lips spread, barring her teeth. Emma was hesitant to call something so frightening a smile. “Why, I’m Regina Mills. The mayor of this town.”

“Oh.” Emma cleared her throat. “And the mayor always brings fruit to the new arrivals?”

“Between you and me,” the mayor leaned closer, her eyes still holding the dangerous look that Emma had learned to run from while her mouth was smiling, “we don’t get new arrivals.”

Emma crossed her arms. She was starting to see why Henry picked her of all people as the Evil Queen. “Thanks for the apples,” she raised an eyebrow.

Regina nodded. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy them on your drive home.”

“Actually,” Emma couldn’t believe the mayor gave a crap about this, “I’m going to stay awhile.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. Mr. Jones did have a closed adoption, didn’t he?”

Emma’s heart clenched and her throat seized for a moment. The blood in her veins seemed to be pumping harsher than usual. “Did he call you?”

Regina smiled sweetly. “Of course not. But my stepson is friends with the Jones boy and I’m aware of his situation.” She took a step away, looking Emma up and down once. Emma fought the urge to fidget. “You being here can’t be good for the boy.”

“Regina, are you threatening me?”

The woman bristled at the use of her first name. “Of course not, Miss Swan.”

Emma hadn’t been lying to Henry when she told him about her superpower and right now, with the creepy Madame Mayor leering at her from the doorway, her superpower was going crazy.

“I can read between the lines.”

“Henry Jones is being taken care of.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Regina rolled her eyes. “It means the boy is in therapy. It’s time for you to go.”

“Or what?”

“Don’t underestimate me, Miss Swan. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

Regina sat the basket of apples at Emma’s feet, spinning around in what Emma considered to be a dramatic fashion, and stormed down the stairs.

“Weird,” she bit into the apple, closing and locking the door back. And people called her kid crazy.

Settling back onto the bed, eating an--admittedly delicious--apple, Emma dove into Peter Pan, trying not to think of Henry’s dad every time Captain Hook was mentioned.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter! In honor of Easter/there being no ouat tonight, I figured I'd post the newest chapter! Please enjoy! Any and all feedback is so appreciated! Huge thanks to Lissa for beta'ing this chapter! :)

Emma refused to believe it. There was no way in hell that Mary Margaret reading some fairytale to some guy woke him out of a coma. That just didn’t happen, not in the real world. And no matter how badly Henry wished it, they did live in the real world.

But then they were rushing to the hospital, Henry’s little hand in hers, and John Doe was no where to be found.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Regina sneered, striding quickly towards them. Even after being in Storybrooke for a few days, Emma was still shocked by the mayor’s blatant hatred for her. “And you-- does your father know you’re missing?”

Emma’s hand closed tighter around Henry’s, her jaw clenching. “He’s not missing, he’s with me.”

“What happened to John Doe?” Mary Margaret interrupted. She looked over the Sheriff’s shoulders into the empty room. “Did someone take him?”

“We don’t know yet. His IVs were taken out, but there’s no sign for sure there was a struggle.”

Henry’s eyes widened, turning to the mayor angrily. “What did you do?”

Surprisingly, Regina looked genuinely upset by Henry’s tone. “You think I had something to do with this?”

“Why else would you be here?” Henry shot back. His aggressive demeanor seemed to soften, though, when he took a step back, his body pressing into Emma’s legs. She dropped her hand to his shoulder.

“I’m here because I’m his emergency contact.” Henry’s shoulders stiffened, but he offered up no other complaint. Emma knew that the mayor wasn’t some evil queen, like Henry thought, but she had been around a lot of bad guys in her life. While Regina might not fit the bill to a T, there was something dangerous about her. While she was willing to punch the stupid mayor in the face, she really didn’t want Henry going up against her.

Emma never should have let him talk her into this whole mission. She wanted to help her son, but now a man was missing, her roommate’s eyes were filling with hope and tears, and the mayor was glaring daggers.

“You should go home to your dad,” Henry’s mouth dropped to protest, but she held up her hands. “No buts. This could be dangerous and your dad would kill me if anything happened. He doesn’t even know about this mission.” Henry still looked defiant, so Emma added: “And then he might not let us see each other anymore.”

He sighed before nodding, a frown taking over his little face. “Okay.” He hiked his tiny backpack up on his shoulders, staring at her with serious eyes. “Be careful.”

Emma’s heart hammered in her chest, the blood rushing so hard she could barely hear his goodbye to Mary Margaret and Graham.

She couldn’t remember the last time someone had told her to be careful, let alone the last time someone meant it. She couldn’t remember the last time she was important enough to someone to make them say it.

She swallowed thickly, trying not to think about why that was. She couldn’t mope about her past or cry because the kid was being nice. A man was missing and both her roommate and the Sheriff were watching her and she had work to do.

\--

Kathryn Nolan ran her hand over her face, the other one pushing the door to the lobby. “Thank you.” The words left her lips before she had even entered the room, her smile softly pointed at Mary Margaret.

Emma’s stomach felt like it was full of lead, watching the woman smile.

“Thank you for finding my David.”

And maybe the emotional woman didn’t notice the way Mary Margaret’s lips parted, how she took a shocked step back. But Emma did and her heart clenched painfully. She couldn’t explain Mary Margaret’s instant connection to this man--blind hope sounds a lot like it, Emma thought-- but she knew her roommate felt it. To hear that it was all pointless must sting. Emma glanced at Jones, whose hand was curled protectively around Henry’s shoulder.

When the mayor had stormed in with the blonde woman, the deputy trailed behind her, rolling his eyes at her dramatic declarations. He didn’t look happy. Reuniting a man with his wife was a good thing; but Emma’s gut still felt wrong about the situation, and based off of his expression, Colin thought so, too.

“Um.” Mary Margaret pulled at her sweater, standing straighter. “Um, I don’t understand. You didn’t know that he was here, in a coma?” She smiled, and Emma hoped it didn’t look as fake to Kathryn Nolan as it did to her.

The story that the woman was spewing seemed too good to be true; it seemed scripted, seemed like too much of a coincidence. But Emma trusted in her superpower and right then, it was telling her that the woman was telling the truth. And even if Mary Margaret had felt some weird bond with the guy, all it could have been was Henry’s overactive imagination spilling into hers.

Whale pushed through the door, shaking his head. “Well, it’s something of a miracle.”

Both Mary Margaret and Kathryn seemed to exhale at the same time, both their bodies relaxing. Taking a step towards the doctor, Kathryn smiled. “He’s okay?”

“Physically, he’s on the mend. His memory is another issue. It may take time, if at all.”

“What brought him back?”

“That’s the thing,” the doctor’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips curling down. “There’s no explanation. Something just clicked in him.”

Emma couldn’t believe that. “He just got up and decided to go for a stroll?”

“He woke up and was delirious; his first instinct was to go find something.”

Henry shrugged away from Jones, his eyes flickering across his father’s face before turning to Emma. “Someone.”

Emma deflated, looking helplessly at Jones. He was staring back.

Regina cleared her throat, interrupting. “Now that they’ve got their happy ending, I should really go return to mine.” She placed a hand on Colin’s arm, smiling. “Thanks again for your help. This has all reminded me how truly grateful I am for Rob and Roland; how grateful you should be to have Henry.” She raised an eyebrow, glancing over to Emma. “Because being alone,” her lips twitched up, her gaze flickering between Mary Margaret and Emma before landing back on Colin, “really is the worst curse imaginable.”

 

\--

“It’s a good idea, Dad.” Henry straightened his tie, raising an eyebrow at his father in the mirror. Colin paused in his ministrations, the egg yolk dripping down the fork he held in his hand.

“What is?”

Henry turned around, jumping off the chair he was using to reach the mirror. He pushed it back towards the kitchen table, grinning. “Asking out my mom.”

“She’s not your mom,” he muttered, his hand shaking as he started to whip the eggs again. He needed to work faster, or Henry wouldn’t have time to eat before school.

He shrugged his shoulders, dropping his head into his hand. “Fine. Asking out my birth mother.”

Colin ignored the way his heart was beating faster and the sweat that was stinging his palms. He poured the egg batter into the skillet, moving it with the spatula as it started to sizzle. “You’ve been listening in on my calls to Uncle Graham again?”

Henry’s face stilled, his expression frozen as he realized he was caught.

He considered scolding his son, especially after running off when Colin was in the shower last night to go run about in the woods, but decided against it. Henry was going through a lot; being a harsh disciplinarian wouldn’t do much but alienate. “Put the bread in the toaster, lad.”

Henry jumped up to do what he was told, his shoulders relaxing when Colin didn’t say anything. He dropped the bread in, pressing down the button, before leaning back on the cabinets. “I think she’d like it.”

Colin sighed. “Look, laddie, I only meant to discuss you.” He didn’t want his son to- god forbid- get ideas about his two parents getting together. That wouldn’t end in anything but heartbreak.

“I know!” Henry nodded, fervently. “I think it’s a good idea.”

Of course, he did. Henry wanted Emma Swan to stay. And if Colin had dinner with her, if he began discussing what was and what wasn’t okay to do with his son (okay would be cocoa at Granny’s. Not okay is looking for runaway coma patients) then she might stay.

Which is what Henry wanted.

But did Colin want that? Could he allow that?

He scooped the eggs onto two plates, setting them on the table, and handing his son a fork. “Eat up. Don’t want to miss the bus.”

“Yeah,” Henry shoveled a fork full into his mouth, grinning. “Emma’s going to walk me.”

Sighing, Colin tore off a piece of bread, popping it into his mouth. “Of course she is.”

\--

“What’s with the sirens?”

Emma feels jittery all over. Henry gave her a name and she found a place to live and borrowing shirts from Mary Margaret is so much better than finding some silk blouse in the lost and found at Granny’s. And even though she’s sure he’s here to yell at her, Colin Jones leaning against the side of the deputy’s car, smirking at her, is a pretty sight.

“Had to make sure I got your attention, Swan.”

Biting the inside of her cheek to hold in her smile, Emma folded her arms. “You’ve got it now, Jones.”

His cheeks reddened, his hand raising to scratch behind his ear. “Aye.” He dropped his arms, smiling. “On behalf of the sheriff station, I’d like to thank you for your help in finding John Doe.”

Emma grinned. “And what do I get? Accommodations? Key to the city?”

Colin pushed himself off the car, taking a step closer to her. His eyes flickered across her face, apprehension clouding his eyes. He swallowed. “I was thinking dinner.”

Emma’s heart fluttered. Her stomach lurched, nerves pooling into her. “Dinner?”

“Aye.” Her head was swimming. He couldn’t mean a date, could he? His face was honest and he seemed sincere, and even though she barely knew him, Emma trusted him. But he was Henry’s dad. He had to be joking. 

“Dinner?” she repeated.

Colin’s face was redder than before, the pinkness of his cheeks a cute contrast to the cerulean blue of his eyes. “Think about it.” He offered her a smile, pulling out a card.

“It has my phone number.” He explained. “Just-- let me know.”

Emma’s mouth was open as she watched him scurry to the drivers seat of the car, her fingers clenched around the card.

She shoved it into her pocket, glancing around. She might have only been up for two hours, but so far, it was proving to be an interesting day. As she headed to Granny’s, wondering if they had banana pancakes but not remembering if she had seen their breakfast menu before, Emma hoped the rest of her day was a bit less emotional than her morning chats with the Jones boys.

\--

Emma, apparently, needed to stop expecting calm days. Storybrooke wasn’t cut out for it.

After chasing a pregnant maid all over town, finding her in labor with a crashed car, and giving Gold a promise she feels in her gut she shouldn’t have, she was finally driving Henry back to his dad’s.

She put the bug in park, playing with the key before making up her mind. Shutting off the ignition, she glanced towards the yellow house. “Mind if I walk you in?” Henry’s face lit up and some of the tension knotting in her shoulders released.

“Yeah!” He jumped out of the car, running to his front door and pushing it open quickly. He looked back at Emma, grinning.

“I’m old, kid. Gotta give me a second to catch up.” Henry laughed and Emma’s heart swelled.

“What’s so funny, lad?” Colin walked in front of the open door, drying his hands on a dish towel. An apron was tied across his waist and Emma refused to admit what cute sight it made.

Henry gestured towards Emma and Colin’s ears turned bright pink. “Oh. Hello, Swan.”

Emma smiled. “Jones.”   
Emma wasn’t sure that getting dinner with Henry’s dad was a good idea. But it didn’t seem like a bad one, either. Even if it was just as friends, Emma could really handle that. Having a friend in this town, especially Henry’s dad, would be helpful. Of course, she had Mary Margaret. But Regina was right. Emma didn’t have roots. She didn’t do roots.

But she also didn’t do staying, or wanting, or family. Getting dinner with Colin, spending time with her son, having a friend for the first time since she was a child-- those were roots. And right now, Emma needed them to help ground her. She didn’t want to run from Henry, like she ran from everyone, like everyone ran from her. He deserved better.

Filling up with mock confidence, Emma walked up to Colin. “Could we talk for a minute?”

Henry’s face erupted in a smile, his little body shaking as he bounced on his toes. Colin nodded, his eyes flickering across Emma’s face.

“Henry, lad, go stir the pasta.”

Colin waved an arm into the house, and Emma walked past him, dropping onto his couch. She knew Henry would be listening from the kitchen, so she decided to be as straight forward as possible.

Before Colin could even sit down, Emma swallowed hard and said: “If your offer is still good, I’d like to take you up on it.”

Colin grinned. Emma knew he wasn’t Henry’s real dad, but the similarities were uncanny: Henry might have Emma’s lips and face, but it was Colin’s smile that he had learned-- all wide and toothy, completely capable of stopping Emma’s heart.

“What offer would that be, Swan?”

The bastard was toying with her. Emma narrowed her eyes, standing up. She shook her curls out, her fingers flexing as she tried to fill herself with confidence. “Dinner.”

His smile softened, his tongue slipping out of his mouth to run across his bottom lip. “Aye. That offer.”

He glanced towards the kitchen before taking a step closer to Emma. Her head was swirling because of it, his too blue eyes and seaside scent ambushing her. Her eyelashes fluttered and she bit her bottom lip.

“I’m always available for a lady like you, Swan.”

Emma rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were pink and her heart stuttered, skipping a beat. “Tomorrow night?”

Colin hesitated, his body tensing for a brief moment, before he lifted his hand and moved a curl that had been covering her face behind her ear. “I look forward to it.”

Emma’s breath was caught in her throat; she needed to get out of there now before she did something she’d regret. She stepped away, towards the door. “Tell Henry I’ll see him soon.”

“Aye, love,” Colin followed her out, leaning against the door frame as she headed towards the bug.

Emma’s blood was pounding so loudly in her ears, her breathing so erratic, she wasn’t sure she could say she remembered the drive back to Mary Margaret’s loft at all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! sorry for the long wait! In honor of sad, no-ouat Sunday, here's the newest chapter! Let me know what you think in the comments and give a little love to my betas, Allie and Lissa. :)

The next day, Emma slept in for hours.

Each time she woke up, she would remember the dinner she promised Colin Jones and would bury herself further under the blankets, determinately shutting her eyes until she drifted back off to sleep. It was a pretty effective system that worked for a while, but when she woke up for the fourth time, her cell phone blinking 12:15 at her, she knew she had to get up. If her bladder didn’t explode, based off of the grumblings, her stomach would.

She padded down the stairs in her pajamas, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her hair was still in the messy braid she’d thrown it in the night before and she was grateful that she had remembered to wash all the makeup off of her face before falling into bed. Emma considered the pros and cons of just grabbing a pop tart before darting back upstairs or if she should shell out the actual effort of making a meal. When she landed in the kitchen, her sock-clad feet sliding across the floor, she blinked, surprised by the other person in the kitchen.

Mary Margaret stood at the counter, her hands deftly moving around as she built a sandwich, humming a soft tune.

Emma’s voice was still gravelly from the sleep, her throat tickling as she spoke. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Her roommate blinked, dropped the bread in her hand, and placed her palm over her heart. “Jeez, you scared me.”

Emma smiled sheepishly. She wasn’t a morning person, not by a long shot, but she didn’t mean to scare Mary Margaret.

“Sorry,” she offered, sliding onto the stool. Emma yawned, loudly, her hand coming up to cover her mouth before she dropped her head to the counter, ignoring the loud grumble her stomach made.

“It’s my lunch break,” Mary Margaret placed the top slice of bread on the sandwich she was making before placing the plate in front of Emma. “Eat,” she raised an eyebrow when Emma opened her mouth to object before starting on a second sandwich.

Emma ate the sandwich quickly, her elbows propped on the table in what was probably a rude fashion. Mary Margaret finished making the second sandwich and sat on the second stool, smoothing her skirts out.

Emma threw the last bit of sandwich in her mouth, wiping the crumbs off of her pajama pants. She jumped down, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. She twisted the cap off and chugged half the bottle, before setting it on the counter. She twirled the cap between her fingers, running the pads of her index fingers across the jagged edges. Her stomach was lurching, her pulse heavy in her veins. She knew it was stupid, didn’t know why it was even bothering her, but Mary Margaret was watching her compassionately and Emma wanted, just this once, to have a friend.

Closing her eyes and crossing her arms, Emma groaned. “I’m having dinner with Colin Jones,” she spoke quickly, pushing the words out before she could take them back.

There was a rattling sound, like a hand falling against a plate, and Emma opened one eye, peaking at her roommate.

Mary Margaret cleared her throat and Emma groaned a second time, throwing herself back onto the stool.

“And that’s… upsetting?” Mary Margaret prompted, picking her sandwich back up and taking a bite.

Emma shrugged. “I guess not.”

Mary Margaret nodded, chewing thoughtfully. After a moment, she turned to face Emma completely. “Why are you going to dinner with him?”

“He asked me?” Emma hesitated, wondering if Mary Margret would make her elaborate. She didn’t, but raised an eyebrow, questioningly. Emma sighed. “He asked me and I want to go.”

Mary Margaret smiled, tilting her head to the side. “It’s not wrong to like him.”

Blood rushed to Emma’s cheeks, her face burning. “I do not like him!”

“Right. Of course not.”

“Right.”

Emma took another swig of the water, trying to calm her heartbeat. She didn’t like him. At least, not in the way her roommate meant. She enjoyed his company, sure. And she was thankful to him, she guessed, for taking such good care of Henry. Even if she hadn’t liked to think about it, she couldn’t deny that she had thought about her son frequently over the past ten years, panic seizing her when she thought about him living an unhappy life like she did. Emma couldn’t help but feel grateful to Colin.

But that was all it was. And even if it was more— which it wasn’t— it didn’t matter. Emma was here for Henry. She didn’t have time for nonsense like crushes and stupid boys with stupid accents.

Mary Margaret swallowed the last bit of her sandwich, grabbing both hers and Emma’s plate and depositing it into the sink. She grabbed Emma’s hand, squeezed it once, before grabbing her bag and coat.

“I’ve got to get back to work,” she said as she slipped into her coat, smiling.

Emma groaned. “A job! I miss working.”

Mary Margaret laughed. “Sure you do.” She grabbed her hat, shoving it over her ears before messing with her bangs.

“I liked my job,” Emma shrugged.

Mary Margaret pulled open the heavy door, her hand on her hip. Pursing her lips, she frowned. Emma stretched, her arms above her head, shaking the remaining drowsiness from her body. Her arms fell, her hands smacking against the counter at Mary Margaret’s sudden and loud “Ah!”

“You should check the Church bulletin. The nuns collect any help wanted around town and put it up there. You could find a job— you know, if you wanted.”

Emma felt her jaw drop slightly, the breath rush out of her lungs in a soft swoosh. She had missed her job, sure. It was fun, it paid well and she liked helping people in the way that she had. She had a job.

But she was here for Henry and here didn’t exactly need a bails bonds person. And having a job would be roots and Henry deserved roots.

The door closed behind Mary Margaret. Emma realized, with a jolt, that she wanted roots and for once in her life, she knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

The revelation dropped Emma’s bottom lip and the whole town shook.

 

———

 

Colin’s hand loosened its tight grip on the wood in front of him, his shaking arm lowering from its protective position over his head.

Storybrooke didn’t get Earthquakes, but that was exactly what had just happened.

He straightened up in his seat, pulling on the lapels of his coat until his hand stopped shaking.

He glanced around the empty chapel, looking for any sort of damage the earthquake inflicted, but outside of a few choir chairs being toppled over, he didn’t notice anything.

He leaned back in the pew, his hands clasping behind his head as he rolled his shoulders. The church was empty this time of day and Colin always gained a sense of peace when he spent time in the chapel, his heart relaxing and his shoulders losing their tension when he spent time with God and laid his burdens on Him.

Colin barely remembered the time before he started going to church every Sunday. After the accident— after Milah— after everything— well, he’s fairly positive he hadn’t missed a single service since.

“Heavenly Father,” he began, bowing his head and dropping his folded hands to his lap. His spine curved as he leaned low, letting a heavy breath slip from his lips. With the whole Emma Swan business, Colin hadn’t spent much time here. Most of his spare minutes had been spent worrying, ranting to Graham, or wearing down the carpet in his bedroom with his pacing. He had missed this; the simplicity, the love.

He was a flawed man and couldn’t imagine his life without his faith.

He spoke quietly, his prayers a whisper in the empty room. Colin could feel his breathing even out, could feel his shoulders lose the weight that had been pressing him down.

When he was finished, when his murmured “amen” ghosted through the room, he heard someone clearing their throat from behind him.

“Sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Jones.”

The pastor of Storybrooke’s Free Methodist Church, Chris James, smiled at him. Colin grinned back. 

He had always liked Chris, had found it nice to have such a young reverend for the town. In addition to being a great pastor, the man was kind and had always shown a soft spot for Colin and his son; though the town was small, he didn’t have a great support group outside of Graham and he appreciated, tremendously, that Chris seemed to care for him.

“I’m sorry to intrude, if you were preparing for your sermon.”

Chris laughed, waving away his worry. “I have plenty of time to prepare later, Mr. Jones.” The man sat in the pew in front of Colin, leaning back so he could watch him. Colin could feel the urge to confess, to let go of the weight pulling at his chest. Chris raised an eyebrow and the words spilled from his lips.

“I’m worried for him,” Colin admitted. His hands were shaking and he clenched his them into fists, folding his arms and leaning away from Chris. “I know that Archie says he’ll be fine and I know he’s still happy and— him but I can’t get this thought out of my head.”

He cocked his head, his eyes bright, his expression sympathetic as he nodded. “And what thought is that?”

Colin’s throat contrasted, once, harshly, and his eyes began to sting. “That he’s not okay and that’ll he’ll never be okay and that it’s all my fault.”

The reverend placed a hand on Colin’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “You must trust that whatever your boy is going through is God’s plan.”

Colin shook his head, recoiling back. “How am I supposed to believe that it’s God’s plan?” He focused his hard eyes on the reverend, his blood beginning to churn at the assumption that Henry’s delusions were heavenly, “That everything my little lad believes is crazy?”

“You think I’m crazy?” Henry’s voice boomed in the church, the only sound besides Colin’s ragged intake of breath echoing throughout the empty chapel.

“Henry!” Colin felt the blood rush to his face, his palms sweating, his knees shaking as he attempted to rush to his son. “No, Henry, laddie—”

“Wait outside, Henry.” Emma Swan’s voice was harsh, cracking through his desperation like a whip. Colin hadn’t even noticed the woman standing near his son and a sudden burst of rage permeated his core as he hefted the guilt off his shoulders to throw the blame at her.

Henry trudged outside and Colin stormed forward. “Why would you bring him here?”

“Me!?” Emma eyes sharply narrowed, her finger coming up to jab at him. “Why would you call him crazy!”

“I didn’t!” He cried. “I called—”

Emma’s mouth dropped, her brows raising and her face crumbling as she searched his. “Everything he believes in crazy?”

“I—” Colin’s shoulders dropped, his whole body feeling heavier than ever before as he realized the weight of his words. “I was worried and I didn’t know he was here.”

Emma leaned against a pew, her arms crossing and her blonde curls bouncing as she shook her head.

“I didn’t bring him here to sneak up on you,” she defended herself, even though Colin hadn’t even considered her intent to be malicious. “I was just looking for a job and I saw him walking to Granny’s and—”

“I know.” Colin leaned next to her, burying his face in his hands. They stood in silence for a moment and by the time Colin had lifted his head, the reverend had left. Colin felt bad, driving him away from his own chapel, but he appreciated the privacy.

“He’s not crazy,” Emma finally said, softly. Her face was mostly curtained by ringlets, her bright green eyes flickering from behind the strands. Her mouth was turned down, a wrinkle decorating her forehead in concentration. “He’s just— lonely.”

His heart contrasted, painfully, his chest fluttering at the understanding in her eyes. She knew his lad and she knew him, even if she didn’t know it. 

“Aye,” Colin sighed. “I should go find him.”

Emma nodded, straightening up, pulling the bottom of her leather jacket. “I should find those job listings.”

Colin pointed towards the corner, smiling. “Bulletin’s over there, love.”

Emma’s cheeks tinged pink, and at the sight, Colin’s did, too. Colin tried not to feel guilty for noticing how pretty she looked when his son was so upset.

“Kid’s out there,” she gestured towards the large double doors and he laughed.

“Till later,” he left, his face still heated.

He went outside, his thoughts about pretty smiles, soft curls and passionate emotions swirling in his head.

Henry was nowhere in sight.

“Henry?” Colin called, peeking into the windows of the patrol car; he wasn’t there. He walked the perimeter of the Church, his pace quickening as he searched up and down the block. He pulled out his phone, cursing when Henry didn’t answer his cell or the house phone.

When the Sheriff answered, he didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Graham, where are you?” When Graham told him he was on patrol, Colin had him check both his house and Henry’s castle, which he still pretended not to know about but Mary Margaret had told him after Henry’s last disappearance. 

He poked his head into Granny’s and into the ice cream shop, panic crawling up his throat when Graham texted him back with a “can’t find the boy, sorry” .

When he reached the front of the Church, Emma stood out front, frowning down at scraps of paper in her hands.

“Have you seen him?” He grabbed her arm; Emma stared up at him, shocked.

“Who? Henry?” At Colin’s fervent nodding, Emma’s bottom lip dropped and she shook her head.

“He’s not here.” His lungs felt full, his bones weak. Henry was a good boy and he wouldn’t just go home alone, not when Emma had told him to wait. “My son is gone.”


End file.
